


we ain't ever getting older

by voodoochild



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Aftercare, Age Play, Anal Sex, Bisexual Male Character, Biting, Blow Jobs, Clothed Sex, Communication Failure, Dirty Talk, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Idiots in Love, Lack of Communication, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multilingual Character, Not Kayfabe Compliant, Open Relationships, Possessive Behavior, Self-Doubt, Social Anxiety, Under-negotiated Kink, Virginity Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-07 15:04:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14673630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoochild/pseuds/voodoochild
Summary: It's August 2015 at the Performance Center. While Kevin's the new kid in town freaking out about his entire life changing, Sami is figuring out he never got over his whole thing for his best friend. They probably should have dealt with these feelings *before* working for the multi-million dollar company, right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Chainsmokers' "Closer", because I am basic and predictable. Much love to Chloe for the cheerleading (write NXT!Zowens, she said, it'll be fun, she said), K for the story beta, and to Sansese for whacking my French into shape.

It’s a normal day.

He puts on his grey tee shirt and shorts like he does every morning and goes to the PC. Drinks coffee and downs a bottle of water and attacks the rower and the weights and the heavy bag like they’re Bill DeMott’s face. After that, it’s promo class with Neville and Adam and Tyler, where he tries out some new material he’s been working on and it doesn’t entirely suck, just needs a lot of work. The last ten minutes is the mirror room, which he’s been having recurring nightmares about, and so he’s walking a bit faster than normal afterward, opening the door to the ring room, talking to Bay and Carm about grabbing some lunch at the Mexican place down the street when he hears a stunned, small voice.

“Sami?”

He looks up, and honest to God, it’s like the sun’s come out. Kevin is standing in the PC, in a Habs tee shirt and shorts and the black-and-green Nikes that are at least 6 years old but haven’t fallen apart yet. For a good minute or so, Sami just stares like an idiot. His heart feels like it’s going to pound out of his chest, the memories of every time over the past year he’s missed Kevin so much he ached just dissipating in sheer happiness. Kevin looks great, hair and beard trimmed and a tinge of Florida sun to him. Same sweet, bashful little smile. Kevin is here, in WWE, and Sami had known he’d signed (Kevin had FaceTimed so Sami could watch him sign the contract, positively exuberant), but he hadn’t been given a report date.

“Kevin, oh my god, you’re seriously here?” He doesn’t mean to push past the girls, leave them in the doorway and accidentally elbow CJ as he rounds the ring to reach Kevin, but he kind of does. Pulls him into a hug, buries his face in Kevin’s shoulder and smells deodorant and spearmint soap. Never wants to let him go, and rests his chin on Kevin’s shoulder. “You did it, holy shit, you’re going to be here with me and you’re going to love it. This place is bananas, Kev, did you see everything they’ve got here?”

“No, how could I? I just walked in the door, you dumbass.” He swats at Sami’s head, but he’s grinning like a madman and Kevin’s bitching has never sounded so sweet. 

It’s been a year, he hasn’t seen Kevin face to face in a year, the phone calls and texts aren’t the same. He hasn't been able to touch Kevin in or out of the ring, hasn't been able to reel him in for a hug (and there have been a lot of times when Sami has fucking *needed* a Kevin hug, Bayley and Ferg are awesome, but no substitute). He’s loathe to let Kevin go, but he does, ignoring the pointed and fake-coughed “get a room, boys” from Neville and Claudio.

“Come on,” Sami says, taking Kevin’s wrist. “I want to show you everything, there’s a whole promo room, with cameras and a stage and seats for people to watch you suck. I mean, the general, non-specific you, because you-you are going to fucking kill it on promo, you’re better than anyone in the building.”

“Sami, you are literally standing next to Triple H,” Kevin deadpans, and oh. Oh, Hunter has been leaning against the practice ring, and smirks. 

“Nah, I’ll give him props, I've never been called the Antichrist of Professional Wrestling,” Hunter says. “I'm kind of going to need Kevin back though. We've got fifty tons of paperwork to get through and you and the rest of the L4’s have a workout drill with DeMott at 1:30, right?”

“But I can give him the tour, right? You're probably busy, I'll have him in your office by 1.” 

Sami leaves Hunter at the door and drags Kevin off through the ring room, and he's sure he's being kind of pushy, but Kevin! Kevin's here!

“So we've got six full rings, all set to WWE specifics, and we use most of them for drills. Backdrops, bumps, running the ropes, twenty reps every morning. If you're late or bitchy, DeMott will make you do worse, he's the resident evil overlord and hates everyone, don't listen to a word he says.”

Kevin nods, dazed, and Sami notices Sasha and Bayley are across the room, hanging on the ropes and giggling at them. Word had spread fast of Kevin’s signing, and half the PC is pretending not to stare at him - the ex indy kids had been happy to count another brother in arms, and the homegrown talent had been in awe of his reputation (considering Hunter and Bryan had talked him up).

“There’s a ring just for rope work,” Sami continues, waving at Ring 3 where Bayley’s gone back to trying to skin the cat. “It’s reinforced and stuff, extra apron padding. You could powerbomb a toddler against it, and we have, Shane’s and Hunter’s kids are nuts. There’s a promo ring, too, it’s got a ramp and cameras. Oh, and this, this is the aerial ring, watch.”

Sami climbs the turnbuckle and side-flips haphazardly. Kevin shouts - knows Sami’s angle will mean an awkward landing at best and a broken arm or neck at worst - but Sami lands on the soft bouncy canvas with a giggle.

“It’s five layers of elastic and foam and the most fun thing ever, get in here.”

“No fucking way,” Kevin breathes, backing up and running. He does a somersault plancha to land next to Sami. “Oh man, if I’d had this starting out, I’d have been doing fucking corkscrew shooting stars every day.”

Sami smiles, because sixteen year old Kevin wanted to be the second coming of Shawn Michaels. Wanted to fly every chance he got, before he was told no, you’re a brawler, you’re a power wrestler, you’re too big to fly. Before he left the flying to Sami. And it makes Sami furious, because Kevin’s moonsault is gorgeous, he never uses it anymore because of Cornette in his ear telling him it looks bad.

You’d have had to pry sixteen year old Kevin out of this ring with a whole factory of crowbars, and Sami hopes it’s the same for thirty year old Kevin.

***

It’s been three weeks, and Sami has absolutely no idea what’s going on. 

Kevin is acting weird. That first day, he’d refused to hang out with Sami after training was over - okay, fine, the first day is a lot to deal with, meeting Dusty Rhodes alone was enough to send Sami into hysterics in his own shower six hours later. But Kevin’s been avoiding everyone, even Claudio and Neville, guys Kevin has known for years and likes. He’s been mumbling through promos, avoiding the weight room when anyone else is in there, and he’d even made Nooph cry (and not on purpose). He’s been quiet and tentative and stuck in his own head - he’d actually botched a superkick, and that’s bullshit, because Kevin has been superkicking people since he was nineteen. Kevin has been superkicking _Sami_ since he was nineteen. 

Matt pulls Sami aside one Friday afternoon, after Kevin has nearly dropped a weight on Claudio’s foot and ignored Charlotte when she’d asked him a question. Sami knows Matt likes Kevin, but he has his trainer-face on, and actually sits Sami down in a chair to talk.

“Is everything okay with Kevin?” Matt asks, and doesn’t wait for Sami to respond. “Understand this isn’t a rhetorical question. People are noticing, and by people I mean DeMott and Hunter and Dusty. Kevin’s making rookie mistakes and he’s not exactly being endearing when he’s confronted about it.”

Sami takes a breath, tries to be objective. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I just don’t know what’s going on. I haven’t seen him like this since - shit, maybe 2011?”

And as soon as the words are out of his mouth, everything starts falling into place. Kevin’s nerves, his mistakes, his anger. The way he’s been keeping to himself, making self-deprecating cracks about being the new kid that aren’t even funny. Kevin is starting to doubt that he can make it here in WWE, just like he doubted himself in Ring of Honor. Kevin hasn’t wrestled in front of a crowd in months, and the “will anyone remember me?” fears are setting in. 

Sami is half-saddened, and half-furious. Of all the stupid fucking doubts to have, how could Kevin ever think that he won’t be remembered? How could he think he isn’t worthy to be here?

“Can we have the main ring in twenty minutes?” Sami asks Matt. “I think I know what’s wrong. I think I can knock it out of him, but I need to have a match. And he needs to think it’s to help me.”

Matt calls for the ring schedule, informs Billie and Peyton that their ring time is going to have to be pushed back 20 minutes, and turns back to Sami. “Fucking fix it, okay? Whatever it takes. You and I know we need him at his best, because that angle ain’t gonna sell itself to Vince.”

Sami’s first storyline pitch: winning the NXT championship in six months on Kevin’s debut night, and Kevin attacking him for it. A new twist to Steen-and-Generico, now Owens-and-Zayn, establish Kevin as the new top heel that NXT needs and continuing Sami’s story as a scrappy underdog. Dusty had loved it, everyone at NXT had loved it, but Vince won’t go for it if everyone (Kevin) isn’t at their best.

Making his way back to the mirror room, where he knows that the intermediate class (the fucking gall, sticking Kevin Fucking Steen into anything less than advanced) is working, Sami ignores the friendly calls from Neville and Tino running the ropes. Ignores Becky and Sasha asking for his opinion on finishers. Ignores Mojo doing bicep curls in the weight room and Kenta’s attempt at a greeting in the hallway. He knocks on the door of the mirror room - Kevin’s in there with Enzo and Cass and Nia and Summer, with Regal walking them through an exercise - and interrupts.

“Hey Kev, grab your gear. Matt wants you and me in the main ring in twenty.”

Kevin is clearly confused, but picks up his bag and follows Sami into the locker room. Sami retrieves his tights from his bag, starts stripping out of his sweats, and when he’s down to his boxers, he notices Kevin completely failing to hide his stare. Kevin hasn’t stared at Sami for years - not since they were first starting in PWG, there was a truly horrifying couple of months where Sami was dating another wrestler and Kevin’s jealousy could be seen from _space_ , so he did his best to hide it with the most confusing game of gay chicken Sami’s ever been a part of. 

(Sami knows Kevin likes guys. It's just that Kevin never *does* anything about his interest, and will in fact deny it to the moon and back if confronted. Violently. But Kevin never lies to Sami, so Sami has never pressed the issue, since clearly Kevin would tell him if the interest were more than aesthetic. Right?

They don't talk about Final Battle. Either of them.)

Thus Sami knows precisely what he’s doing when he pretends to ignore Kevin and slides his boxers off very slowly, bending over to pick up his compression shorts. Says very casually “so, I’ve been kind of bored working with Tyson and Claudio. Been itching to face Neville one on one, but that ain’t going to happen. Told Matt, and he wants to see me change it up a little. Show his L3 class some technique.”

“Okay…” Kevin's voice rises a little. “And that's a problem?”

“Yes, because I'm not allowed to _use_ half my technique. Every time I go for a suicida or try to work a chain spot in, I've got fucking DeMott in my ear bitching about ‘not wrestling like a pissant luchador’, and I've already changed so much-"

“Maybe that's the problem.”

Kevin’s voice is tight, and Sami can see him sit down on the far end of the bench, clutching his kick pads a little too hard. 

“What am I supposed to do? I mean, that's me. The topes and spinning arm drags and the Asai aren't just Generico, they're me, and I fucking cripple myself when I can't use them.”

“Well, duh,” Kevin says, “you’re the best wrestler here.”

“Eh, debateable.”

“Yes you are, you fucking jerk, shut up. What do you need me for?”

Sami knows this part has to be as absent and calm as he can manage it. Doesn’t even look at Kevin while he steps into his knee pads. “Gotta be someone who I trust, who knows how to call a match on the fly or follow my calls. Oh, and he mentioned wanting to give them some notes about continuity in angles, and you know we’re fucking awesome at that.”

Kevin looks dubious, from the look Sami sneaks as he adjusts the waistband of the shorts to rest on his belly below the line he knows his tights hit. “Just dunno why you’d yank me out of Promo 101. Claudio’s just as good. So’s Neville. I’ve probably got ring rust.”

“We have way more history together,” Sami says, and Kevin yanks up his knee pads like he’s not listening. “Anyway, you love teaching, Kev, you remember those classes you did in Quebec? Think of it like that. I think the demo will really help some of that group. Becky’s been asking me about finishers - don’t you think her cloverleaf is too boring? It’s practically the same as Char’s figure-eight, and Char pulls it off better.”

“No fucking shit, with her last name. But I think Becky’s good, better than she thinks, Fergal won’t shut up about her.” Sami adjusts his shorts, watches Kevin nearly give himself whiplash turning back around to lace his right boot. Continues talking like he hasn't been staring again. “You know, I wish more women had power moves. What about an exploder suplex?”

“Could work,” Sami says absently, tugging on his tights. “Can you bust one out during the demo?”

“No, asshole, I completely forget how to do an exploder. You’ll have to do your underhook variant to demonstrate. Please, Professor Zayn, teach me your ways.”

If Kevin’s being sarcastic, the nerves and anxiety must be going away. Good. He needs brilliant-and-focused Kev, not inwardly freaking the fuck out Kev.

***

They emerge out of the locker room to find not only Matt’s L3 class (Becky, Bayley, Sasha, Aiden, Jason, and Bo) gathered at ringside, but practically the entire PC. Dusty’s commandeered an office chair right by the ring, Graves and Corbin are leaning on the apron smirking in sheer delight, Blake and Murphy and Cass clear off the steps to let Sami and Kevin through, and Sami even spots Hunter and Sara sitting on the turnbuckles of Ring 2, where they’ve paused a drill with a group of L1’s.

He can see Kevin start to panic, and it’s instinctive for Sami to toss his gear bag to the floor and run up to the ring, dive in. Pace like he’s caged lightning, because he is, he hasn’t locked up with Kevin in over four hundred days and that’s unacceptable. Kevin stands at the ring steps, eyes hooded, and Sami smirks, gives him a “bring it” gesture that gets oohs and catcalls.

And Kevin smiles, small and indulgent and purely sadistic, so perfectly crafted that Sami could cheer.

“You don’t want me to get in there,” Kevin says, projecting it even to Mojo and Gable in the back. “How long’s it been since someone stiffed you, man? Fucking hit you right in your smart mouth?”

“Last week!” Claudio yells, hanging on the ropes of Ring 4. 

“Are you in kindergarden? Is your name Sami? Fuck off, Castagnoli.” Kevin flips him off, goes up one step. “You’ve been on cruise-control for a year, Sami. Nice cushy gig here. Do you even remember how to call a match in the ring?”

“Sure as hell do,” Sami says, backing up to run the ropes twice, then hop onto the top rope to backflip back into the ring. He can hear murmurs and Lexi’s surprised shout at his favorite taunt, Generico’s signature that he can't do anymore. Sami spreads his arms wide. “Been doing it here while you dicked around in Ring of Honor. Come on, Kev. I bet if you really try, you might even be able to hit me with the powerbomb. Only if you come catch me.”

(The pop-up is Sami’s favorite move of Kevin’s to take. It hurts like hell, looks beautiful, and makes Kevin look like an unstoppable monster. Sure, the package piledriver is a classic, but Kevin’s already been warned that there will be no piledrivers in WWE.)

“Shut up,” Kevin growls, ascending another step. “Always gotta be so fucking flashy. Ooh, look at my Asai, look at my suicide tornado, look at my spin-out. Look at me, pay attention to me. You’re such a child.”

“Says the kid who just had to hit a 450 splash in his first match,” Sami retorts, beckoning Kevin into the ring. He appreciates the scattered ‘no-fucking-ways’ he hears in reaction to the mention of the 450. “You got soft, Kev. Talking’s so easy for you, you never had to work like me.”

“Oh, I didn’t fucking work like you?” Kevin’s finally in the ring, throwing his water bottle outside, barely missing Becky. He advances on Sami, getting right in his face. “I didn’t work? I didn’t wrestle you in front of fifty people in fucking Saskatoon, or share the world’s shittiest rental car with you? I didn’t put together the best fucking heel turn on the indy circuit and sell out the motherfucking ECW and Hammerstein arenas? I did that, Sami - me! You rode my fucking coattails.”

 _Yes, yes motherfucking yes_. This is the Kevin he needs, and he clocks Kevin’s hand curling into a fist. They just need a bell-ringer, one line to prompt the brawling.

“You keep telling yourself that,” Sami snarls, shoving Kevin back. “You glory hog, you’re the fucking worst, you always have been. Well, I fucking stole your spotlight. Who’s the face of NXT? Me. Who’s the best wrestler in this building? Besides Dusty? Me. Who’s the one with the title shots? Me. They finally let me have a voice of my own. And Kev - all I have to do to keep it is watch you crash. And burn. And fail.”

That’s it, that’s what Kevin needs to clock the glint in Sami’s eye, and match it with his own sheer elation. They’re back in a ring together, and they’re going to fucking tear the entire PC down. Kevin launches himself at Sami, swinging with his right hand - because he always does, it lets Sami lean back onto his left leg and then return the punch. Crashing together, furious punches, and Sami can’t resist laughing at the perfect muscle memory that lets him catch Kevin’s elbow and arm-drag him. Kevin goes so easy with him, Sami’s halfway in the air before Kevin rotates his body. 

Simple arm-drag, punch attempt by Kevin, spinning go-behind by Sami and a deep arm-drag. DeMott’s annoyingly superior voice pointing out that Sami arm-drags like a luchador, how you can’t shake training. Half-crab to Kevin chained into a roll-through and kick to Sami’s stomach. Sami lets Kevin stomp him, show some of that heel anger, and Kevin’s starting to taunt him again.

“Crash and burn, asshole? Who’s fucking crashing? What was that? Sorry, the canvas was in your mouth, try it again. No no no you don’t fucking try a small package on me, who the fuck do you think you are?” Slap. “Try it again, Sami.” Slap. “Fucking hit me.”

Sami catches his hand, slaps his chest. “What, like that?” he says, chops him again, and Kevin backs up, knows Sami wants the springboard tornado. Kevin’s grip is the surest thing Sami knows, what gives him the guts, every single time, to jump onto that top rope and leap, trusting Kevin to hold him and steady him and catch him.

Pin-attempt - oh, huh, Bryan’s here and decided to play ref - and from that moment, it’s all Kevin calling the match. Sami’s great with the pre-ring stuff, can plan and script and execute, but when you’re in the ring, Kevin’s the one you want as your general. Sami has to let him shine, show DeMott and Matt and Regal and everyone how great Kevin is at that.

There’s a quick back and forth of chain-wrestling, some rope work, a corner spot Sami remembers from their first PWG match in Reseda where Kevin stands on his chest and Sami sells it like dying. Kevin goes for a turnbuckle spot - tree of woe, those are always cool - kicking Sami in the side, then backs up. 

Running turnbuckle cannonball.

Sami’s lying on the mat, trying not to grin and pretending to catch his breath at the same time, and he’d forgotten some of these kids have never seen Kevin work. That this was their first cannonball splash, that they’re ooh-ing and aah-ing over how vicious it looked, how could Sami have taken it? Another pin-attempt, and Kevin uses the angle to whisper “turnbuckle leg spot outside, apron smash, Asai”.

“Top rope corkscrew?”

Kevin’s hand squeezes his wrist. “Hell yes.”

They get to the outside, Kevin working his leg against the turnbuckle until Sami uses the apron to swing his legs up and kick Kevin in the head. Shoves Kevin away, using his shoulders to drive Kevin’s back into the ring apron, and ducks a quick powerbomb attempt that Kevin can’t help but throw in. Climbs onto the apron, checks his distance and Kevin’s positioning, and propels himself up to the top rope.

Springboard Asai moonsault, single corkscrew.

The whistling from Neville and Fergal is pretty nice, but Kevin’s quiet “sweet” breathed next to Sami’s ear, Kevin's palm wrapped carefully around Sami’s hip, is better.

***

Sami wants to ramp the next part up, let Kevin show off his flying, but when he ducks his head to tell Kevin, his best friend shakes his head.

“Trust me. Let's see how far we can push them.”

The low blow isn't even a surprise, and Sami cries out, sells it while rolling onto his back on the floor. The crowd has raced around the ring to keep Sami and Kevin in their sights, and Kevin sprawls out in a chair next to Dusty (who is laughing his ass off), commentating to let them catch their breaths.

“Awwww. Acting like you're dying. You fall for it every time, you dumbass, quit whining. Poor baby, did that hurt?”

“Yes, it fucking hurt, asshole. Get over here and stop talking-”

“I'm sorry, you want me to stop talking? Make me. Oh wait, you can't because that will never happen. God himself could descend from on high to tell me ‘Kevin, you have to be quiet and beat Generico in peace’ and I would still be mocking you-"

He has that curl to his lip, and maybe it's being called Generico again, but Sami spits, right in Kevin's face. The crowd - some of which are the best wrestlers in the world - have hit complete markout mode, booing and recoiling. Hunter and Claudio, meanwhile, are applauding. Kevin slowly stands, saliva dripping from his cheek, and wipes it off. Uses the same hand to slap Sami across the mouth.

“You like that?” Does it again, which Sami responds by flipping him off. “Cute. You better take this back in the ring before I pick up a chair. You remember chairs, right? Didn't I give you a nice scar right here-?" Taps the back of his head, left side. “C’mon, Sami, I can give you a matching one on the other side.”

Sami hears the cue for what it is, and shoves Kevin over to the ring apron. Picks his chair up, and even Hunter looks gleeful. Sami tees off on Kevin, a stiff back shot Kevin doesn’t need to sell to convey how painful it is, and rolls him into the ring. Pin attempt, with Bryan still shaking his head in exasperation with them, and Kevin kicks out, playing up the punch-drunk act.

Kevin swings wildly, Sami backing against the ropes and rolling out of the ring. The crowd parts, Murphy actually picking Lexi up out of the way, and Kevin grabs Sami by the hair, pulls him by his arm onto the apron. Calls for a tope con hilo and Sami covers his grin with a couple elbows to Kevin's head. They trade blows - dimly, he hears Billy describing the difference between pulled blows, worked blows, and real shots to the L1 class - and Kevin headbutts Sami to make him fall onto the floor.

Jason's a little too close when Sami checks the ringside, and thankfully Bayley sees it, yanks him back just as Kevin launches himself into a beautiful tope con hilo. Somersaults over the ropes and onto Sami, and they go down in a pile of limbs to outright cheering.

“ _Ca va?_ ” Kevin asks, rolling to his side and getting a hand against Sami's hip.

Sami coughs, gets his breath back. “ _Bien, mon ami._ Exploder, sunset flip, Blue Thunder attempt?”

“Who's calling this match?” Kevin jokes. “Sleeper before the sunset. Better setup.”

“Aw, thanks.” 

Bryan’s counting, up to about six, and Kevin gets to his feet first, drags Sami back into the ring to break the count. Sami gets his shoulder into Kevin’s stomach, pushes him into the turnbuckle a few times, and Kevin breaks out, does a go-behind into a hammerlock. Sami reverses into the side-headlock, lets Kevin sell the impending move (“no no no fucking no”) and Sami torques his back and hips, exploder suplex into the turnbuckle. 

Sara’s clearly on the same page as Kevin, because she’s pointing out the benefits to modifying the exploder to Becky, and Sami goes for the pin. Kevin kicks out, slaps on the sleeper hold. His forearm tucks tight to Sami’s throat - Hunter’s lecturing to the newbies about technique, praising Kevin’s control and attention to how Sami’s signaling him - and Sami fights up to his feet, breaking the hold twice.

He taps Kevin’s hip for the sunset, shooting him into the ropes. Kevin’s hands land on his back, so Sami takes him up and over, muscle memory, and Kevin’s hands wrap around Sami’s legs to flip him down. Sami decides to somersault through and dropkick Kevin, getting an annoyed and over-the-top “ow” from Kevin.

Matt’s giving them the wrap-it-up-boys signal, and so Kevin grabs for Sami’s head. Sami elbows himself out - “not yet”, he taunts, and there are scattered laughs. Backs up to the corner, and, well, he can’t help but try for the Helluva. Kevin shoulder-slams him, knocks the breath out of him with a “not today!”, and grabs his arm to shoot him into the ropes. This is it, this is the Pop-Up, and Sami goes for the double rope run. Hits once, twice, and then two steps before Kevin’s hands are settling on his hips and Sami’s pushing himself into the air.

Flying, throwing out his arms while Kevin’s hands grip his hip and belly and pull him back down. The impact is thunderous, a few of the rookies actually cursing and screaming, a couple murmurings of “holy shit”, and Sami stares at the lights while Bryan counts the pin for Kevin.

As Sami sits up, he can see Kevin blinking back tears - Hunter’s applauding, leading the whole PC with it - and Sami leans in, kisses Kevin’s shoulder with a grin.

“Ring rust, huh?”

“Shut up.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to Mith for the last-minute handholding/agonizing/editing help with this chapter. Remember kids, if you don't have an organic Claudio to help with your love life, store-bought is fine.

Hours later, they’re both still keyed-up from the match. It doesn’t exactly surprise Sami, having spent a good decade of his life wrestling Kevin, and sitting up until 2 am with him at fast food restaurants or playgrounds or grubby hotel rooms, rehashing the match until one or both of them falls asleep from exhaustion.

They’d been invited for sushi by Akira and Kenta, but they’d declined. Sami’s stomach is feeling weird and Kevin’s never been a huge fan, so Sami drives back to his apartment and they end up throwing together omelettes. Post-match Kevin is usually too tired/hurt to cook, but that was barely a warm-up, so he’s mocking Sami’s vegetable-chopping and sneaking extra pepper into the mix, all in a tumble of French-and-English.

(Sami’s missed French. Misses Arabic too, but he only really speaks it with family, unlike French. French is for Kevin - and Kevin’s family - and those too-quick tours of Quebec and Montreal.)

“... I still think we should have thrown a brainbuster in there,” Kevin’s saying, washing off the knife he’s just used to chop onion. “It would have strengthened the apron spot-”

“If they’re never going to let you do a piledriver, they’re never going to let me do the brainbuster.”

“ _C’est des conneries._ It doesn’t feel right.”

Sami sighs, reaching for another mushroom as he’s slicing. “ _C'est vraiment des conneries._ I know. I’ve tried everything.” 

“Ugh, not so much,” Kevin complains. “ _Tu sais que je deteste les champignons._ Seriously, they’re slimy, how can you eat them? No, wait, you missed a bit- ow. How is your kitchen so tiny and why are your elbows so pointy?”

“You could move, _mon cher_. One of us burns water when they try to cook, and _c’est clairement toi_. Can you get that board?”

They haven’t broken out the pet names in a while. Back in IWS, they used to use them to rile up the rest of the boys. Start at _mon cher_ , ramp up to _mon lapin_ (usually Kevin) or _mon chouchou_ (Sami, ruffling Kevin's hair), complete with leering and cheesy grins. Eventually someone would groan and throw a used towel at them. All in fun.

Kevin rolls his eyes and goes to run water over the used cutting boards while Sami turns the flame up, adds oil to the pan, and starts sauteeing vegetables. Hums the chorus to a Mountain Goats song while the water runs, and as he stirs, he feels Kevin brush past. Kevin’s a terrible cook, but he likes watching others, and he settles in with his hip against Sami’s. Reaches around Sami’s waist to hand him another spoon. Brushes a stray piece of lint off Sami’s jeans.

Small, deliberate touches, one after another, Sami notices. He’s pretty sure Kevin hasn’t noticed the flirting - because Sami has seen people sit in Kevin’s lap and basically express a desire to be ravished, and Kevin completely fail to get it - but it is flirting and Sami really likes it when Kevin flirts. He spent fifteen minutes in the ring with Kevin's hands all over him, but these touches affect him more.

He takes a bit of vegetables on a fork and holds them out to Kevin. “Tell me if these are done?”

Kevin takes the bite - Sami is not enjoying how Kevin's eyes flutter or how he licks his lips, he swears he's not - and shakes his head. “Still slimy. And not enough spice, don't you have baharat?”

“Second shelf in the overhead cabinet. Grab me a garlic clove while you're there.”

“ _Ici_ ,” Kevin says, handing him the spice jar and the garlic clove. “I want cheese in mine, too. You?”

Sami shakes his head. “No, but grab the eggs for me and scramble them. I'm not cooking in batches, you can melt cheese over yours when I'm done.”

Finishing the meal is easy and lazy, Kevin completing small tasks like wiping down the pan and putting the filling in a bowl before retrieving the eggs from the fridge. Sami focuses on the eggs, but gets Kevin to toss some pita in the toaster oven. All while Sami, at least, is hyperaware of Kevin; the stretch of his arms, the solidity of his shoulders, quirk to his mouth as he watches Sami cook.

They eat on the couch, an old episode of Friends on for noise and Kevin’s shin pressing against Sami's hip because they both sprawl. Kevin's talking between bites, wondering if he should partner with Gargano, because they’re talking about bringing him in and they spent those six months teaming while Sami was in Japan. The Panda Express, Johnny and Kevin jetlagged and too-hyper, hilarious stuff, right Sami? 

“... probably gonna stick me in a tag team, cause we all know I'm not their ideal guy. Might as well be with Johnny if I can't team with you-”

Sami can't take it anymore. He lets Kevin swallow, then takes the mostly-finished plate out of his hand and puts it on the end table. Then he kisses Kevin.

(This is not their first kiss. That had been ages ago, because Kevin likes taunting his opponents by kissing them. It hadn't been bad, but this is pretty close to what Sami has wished their first kiss was like - easy, slow, deliberate. They're also a lot more coherent than any of the other times they've kissed in a post-match haze, and that’s better too.)

Kevin gasps, opening up for Sami and settling his hands on Sami's shoulders. Sami leans in, tastes spice and olive oil and the Gatorade Kevin's been drinking, and his hand curls around Kevin's neck. Soft motions of his lips, almost chaste, almost as if he and Kevin are both terrified to do this.

“Okay?” Sami murmurs, brushing Kevin's mouth with his fingers. Kevin nods, kissing the tip of Sami’s index finger, and Sami pulls him back in, catches Kevin's mouth again. Presses against Kevin a little more, feels him trembling and gasping.

The small sounds Kevin is making are destroying Sami, in the best way. Kevin sounds starving, hungry little groans and cries, his hands oddly hesitant on Sami's shoulders. Sami wants more - a lot more, everything - but Kevin feels so still against him. Sami's coaxing Kevin with every breath, stroking his fingers along Kevin's neck and making encouraging noises when Kevin does something he likes.

“ _Mon chéri, c'est bien_?” he asks, ducking his head to catch Kevin's eyes.

“ _Oui, je veux_ \- I don't…” Kevin looks startled, clutching at Sami’s arms. His eyes are wide and his expression - it isn't one Sami’s seen on Kevin in years. “It's been a year. I thought…”

Sami shakes his head. “Are you kidding? I missed you every day.”

“That was wrestling. This is… I don't know what this is. I just know if you don't kiss me, I might - Jesus, I don't know. Tell me you don't hate me,” he finishes plaintively.

Sami makes an involuntary sound, feels like it's been ripped from his throat. Cups Kevin’s face, his hands shaking. “Think of what you've done to me in the past, what we've done to each other. And you think something as sweet, as good as this would make me hate you? Kevin, you beautiful idiot. Stop your mouth.”

Kevin does, presses his mouth to Sami’s all lips and tongue and teeth, and fuck, Sami can't catch his breath for it. 

***

For the next week, Sami could not for the life of him tell you what he was doing at the PC. He knows it was hashing out Takeover, knows he and TJ and Tyler and Neville were working out the main event, knows he probably tried to talk them into a bunch of spots. He might have eaten lunch? And there was probably working out and doing classes in there somewhere? But it's like his brain and body were on autopilot for twelve hours, until the end of the day.

6:59, and Kevin's waiting for him by the side entrance, the both of them pretending they aren't waiting until they get to Sami’s apartment to make out. Pretending they don't want to drop everything and get their hands all over each other. Sneaking little touches in the car, Kevin’s hand atop Sami’s on the gear shift, Sami’s hand reaching across the seat back to ruffle Kevin’s hair. A half-dozen little kisses at red lights, giggling nervously when the light turns.

Sami hasn't done this since he was eighteen, and it was never with Kevin. It was always sneaking away from Kevin, scared of what Kevin would think at first and then not wanting to make anything awkward or distracting. It was in cars in Quebec winters, in hotel rooms in California summers, always halfway wishing the person he was with was Kevin. 

And now that he has Kevin, it's… well, it's _them_. It's weird as hell and kind of perfect.

It hasn't actually gone beyond kissing and touching, no clothing has even come off, which is ridiculous if you ask Sami, but when he sees the way Kevin reacts just to this, he thinks he understands why the unspoken limit is there. Half the time, Kevin kisses like he can't get enough; almost punishing them for waiting so long, dragging his hands over Sami, rucking up his shirt and gripping his ass. Rough and the worst sort of tease, because Sami knows everything would stop if he got rough in return. Sami keeps his hands relaxed, keeps his body in check, lets Kevin do what he wants.

The rest of the time, Kevin is achingly sweet, whispering softly to Sami, his hands gentle on Sami’s shoulders while Sami licks and nips at his neck and ear. It's never even gone as far as them getting off together. Sami knows Kevin is hard, it's tough to miss, but every time he asks or goes to touch Kevin, he just shakes his head and goes back to kissing Sami. He doesn't touch Sami, even with encouragement. And Sami doesn't want to push; it's better, so much better, to have just this small piece of Kevin.

Today is different. 

Today, Kevin’s in a desperate mood, pushing Sami onto the couch and settling on top of him. Presses his mouth to Sami’s in a sharp little gasp, and arching his body in a long line against Sami's, their hips slotting together in muscle memory given new context. Sami moans, pulling Kevin closer, rutting up against him - Kevin’s hard and so is Sami and today, it’s apparently more than okay to acknowledge.

Sami wants to beg, plead with Kevin to be allowed to touch him, but he can’t find the breath. Kevin’s driving it all from him, grinding deep and filthy against Sami, rasping little whimpers and groans that escape from his mouth. His hands are all over Sami - oh god, he might leave bruises and it’s the best thing Sami can imagine, being able to stand in the shower after Kevin leaves, feel everywhere his hands have been. 

Kevin bites down on Sami’s lower lip, making him cry out and arch sharp against Kevin, and Sami dimly hears Kevin murmuring “please please oh please I can’t take it”. Feels how close Kevin is, the thick press of him to Sami’s hip, and absently digs his fingers into the back of Kevin’s neck as he groans.

Sudden, heavy wetness against him and the knowledge that he’s gotten Kevin so turned on he came in his shorts just sends a wave of possessive lust through Sami. He can’t help but flip Kevin, almost an inside cradle, get Kevin’s legs around his waist and his dick pressing against Kevin’s ass. Dry-fuck him down against the couch, Kevin’s surprised babble driving him even crazier.

“What- what are you - oh, *oh* fuck, Sami, more, please, please, oh that’s good, that’s so good-”

Sami needs to kiss Kevin and never wants him to stop talking and everything’s too good to be real, he grinds hard against Kevin and comes with a sound he’s not sure he’s ever made before. Their skin is sticky with sweat and come, breaths mingling as they kiss slow, and Sami can’t stop making small aftershock thrusts that get a breathy little huff from Kevin.

“Oh my god,” Kevin says, unwinding an arm from around Sami’s neck.

“You’re telling me.” Sami eases back, lets Kevin settle against the couch. “Where the hell did that come from?”

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Kevin, if you apologize to me for _any_ of that, I’ll kick your ass. That was fucking gorgeous, did you miss the part where you drove me so crazy I almost fucked you dry?”

Kevin makes a soft moan, ducking his head to rest it on Sami's shoulder and Sami strokes a hand down his back. Feels how Kevin's still trembling, still breathing hard. 

“I liked that,” Kevin whispers.

“Good,” Sami says, wants to kiss Kevin but doesn't know if he can chance making Kevin look at him right now. “Because I’m going to do it again. I've been waiting for twelve hours to touch you. No wait, I've been waiting for _fifteen years_ to touch you. Every day, it's like I can't breathe if I'm not here with you.”

“No, that's me. That's how I felt for a year when you signed and left me and Sami, I don't know what we're doing-"

Sami decides fuck it, gets his mouth on Kevin's, and kissing Kevin post-orgasm might be Sami’s new favorite thing. He's so relaxed, but sensitive, Sami can feel him moan at the slow, gentle bite Sami gives him and shiver for the slide of Sami’s tongue against his. The shivers continue with Sami letting his fingers play down Kevin’s spine, fascinated with the play of muscle and bone, familiar and new at the same time. 

“We're good, Kevin, this is good,” he breathes, and Kevin's hands tighten on his back, but he tilts his head to kiss Sami again. 

Sami isn't going to question it.

***

He finally figures out what Kevin's deal is a couple weeks later.

Claudio comes to find him after some ring time, and so Sami’s lying on the canvas trying to catch his breath and not realizing he’s about to be ambushed until 240 pounds of amused Swiss caffeine-hound are resting their feet on his chest. 

“Hey Sami, where’s Kevin?”

“Workout.” Maybe if he concentrates on breathing or staring at the ceiling, Claudio will leave. “He’s planning a day at the zoo with Ferg and Bayley and Sasha, so he wanted to get it in early.”

“Uh huh. And you’re not going?”

“Nope.”

“You’re not jealous at all?”

“Why would I be?”

Sami grabs the tension band he’d left on the ring apron, pretending he needs to stretch out. Really, he just doesn’t want to look directly at Claudio, who has always had a weird sixth sense about road relationships.

“Sami, _mon frère_ , when it comes to Kevin, you are painfully jealous always. Why do you think Matt won’t let Kevin partner anyone else for drills? Because the last time he was with Neville, you sat ringside and critiqued everything Nev did. Imagine if you did that to someone like Chad or Enzo who actually gives a shit what you think of them.”

He loses his grip on the band, snapping it against his calf, and pretends it didn't happen, rolling his hips forward to stretch his thighs out. The last thing he wants to do is have other people noticing - the trainers or the bookers or god forbid Dusty. God, why can’t he be cooler about this?

“What?” he says nervously. “Nah, Kev and I are fine, I’m not jealous, why would I be jealous? I don’t care who he partners with-”

“ _Tais-toi_ ,” Claudio says, hooking a finger in the tension band and snapping it again so Sami looks over at him. “You’ve been in love with each other for ten years. The two of you can barely make eye contact without either mooning or flipping out, something is going on that is making you insecure and jealous. The world will not explode if you talk to somebody about it.”

Sami bites the inside of his cheek, because people have said that before and it _has_ ; Final Battle 2010, and the really confusing fugue state they were both in afterward. Colt had locked them in the dressing room and Sami still doesn't remember what happened - he thinks he might have given Kevin a blowjob after Kevin jerked him off, but between the blood loss and the roller coaster of emotions they were on, he doesn't know for sure. Kevin's never said what he remembers, and then they went an entire year without really speaking. Risking that again is not something Sami really wants to do.

“I… have no idea what we're doing,” he finally says. “Making out? Like, all the time, any chance we get? Mostly at my apartment, but there was this one time in my car, and we almost got caught in the locker room - which would not be the first time that happened at the PC, we all remember Carm and Cass. And, like, Kevin is sort of freaking me out with those rookie mistakes, because I remember 2011, okay? It’s just the stupidest and most ridiculous self-sabotage, but he won't actually tell me what's wrong.”

Claudio thuds his head back into the turnbuckle. “The god of idiot wrestlers is testing me.”

“You could help,” Sami retorts, rolling onto his side and resting on his elbow. “Okay, Swiss genius? Instead of complaining and lecturing.”

“Those are two things I do really well,” Claudio says, but rests a hand on Sami’s knee. “Think of it from Kevin’s point of view. He really only has three things he cares about - wrestling, his family, and you. Two of those things have changed, completely out of his control. Is it a surprise he is having difficulty?”

Sami shrugs helplessly. “Then why doesn’t he tell me? Ugh! I just… I don't know what’s going on and I don't know how to talk to him when he's freaking out. I'm usually the emotional wreck between the two of us.”

“True.”

“Thanks, asshole,” he says sarcastically, and Claudio laughs gently.

“Listen - do you know how, when he's being stupid about a match, you usually boss him around in one way or another until he figures out what he's doing?” Sami nods, and Claudio gets to his feet. “Do that. It's good for him.”

“It’s good to boss him around?”

“Why not? Many people enjoy being told what to do by their partners. And many others, like you, enjoy doing the telling.”

Sami stares, piecing it together and feeling like he’s taken a punch between the eyes. “Wait, are you saying Kevin’s submissive?”

Claudio coughs in surprise. “Are you saying you did not know? You who once challenged me to fuck him in every position we were capable of? I don’t recall you being so naive about sexual desires.”

His face heats as Claudio reminds him of that summer they spent dating. Kevin was in Montreal, Claudio had been on the rebound, and Sami would have done anything to keep his mind off missing Kevin. It had been a great summer fling, they’re still friends, but they don’t usually bring it up now.

“I didn’t - I just never thought about it.”

“Take some time and think about it. It may be precisely what you and he need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO MUCH FRENCH. I owe Sansese a firstborn or something for sorting through all of this:
> 
> C'est des conneries/C’est vraiment des conneries = this is bullshit/it's really bullshit  
> Tu sais que je deteste les champignons = you know I hate mushrooms  
> Mon cher = my dear  
> C’est clairement toi - it’s clearly you  
> Mon lapin = lit: rabbit, fig: nickname meaning “bunny”  
> Mon chouchou = lit: my little cabbage, fig: nickname for a boyfriend  
> Ici = here  
> Mon cheri, c'est bien - darling, it's good?  
> Je veux - I want  
> Mon frere = my brother  
> Tais-toi = shut up
> 
> Baharat is a Syrian spice and it's amazing in omelettes, it will change your life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's not talk about how much of a trashfire last Monday night was for our favorite ginger boy. Let's dwell in happy 2015 Zowens.

The next day is Saturday and there’s no house show, which means he can't go to the PC (well, he could, but they limit weekend hours and he's already done his time on the elliptical this morning), and therefore he has nothing to do but crank some Against Me and pace his apartment. He cooks, he cleans, he gets halfway through last week’s Walking Dead before he realizes he hasn't heard a word of it. 

(It's still incredibly odd not to be getting ready for a show tonight. When he first came to Florida, he found himself in his car with his gear bag almost once every Saturday afternoon before he remembered he didn't have a show to make that night. He wonders if Kevin's doing it too.)

He flicks on the hockey game mid-afternoon, and Kevin seems to have radar, because he knocks on the door about 7 minutes into the first period. He doesn't launch himself at Sami, this time, only sits down on the other end of the couch in his Hart Foundation shirt and jeans and looks like he's trying not to yell.

“Good afternoon, Kevin. Sit down, Kevin,” Sami says, only slightly annoyed, shutting and locking the door. “Did you want something to drink?”

“You blabbed to Claudio,” he responds.

“How the hell do you know?” Sami heads for the kitchen because he's out of Lacroix, and continues the argument over his shoulder. “And technically, I didn’t because he already knew something was wrong…”

“Wait, wrong?! We're doing something wrong now?”

“Stop putting words in my mouth! You've been acting weird, I apparently was also being weird yesterday, he has that sixth sense about this stuff. He figured out what we were doing-”

“What were we doing?” Kevin asks, flatly. 

Sami really, really wants to punch Kevin, but he waits until he gets back in the room and sets down his water before he answers.

“Making out? Working our way up to handjobs? I mean, I don't know about you, but I, personally, was about a tenth of the way to doing all the things to you I've dreamt about since we were eighteen.”

Kevin pales, shaking his head. “No, that's not what that was. That - you don't have to lie or anything, you can just tell me it was boredom or an experiment. I'm not gonna be mad-"

Okay, desperate times and desperate measures, and Sami sure hopes Claudio wasn't just messing with him about Kevin liking to be bossed around.

“Kev, shut up and don't move.” Sami watches Kevin raise his eyebrows, but close his mouth, and Sami shoves Kevin's knees apart so he can kneel between them. Slides his hands up Kevin’s thighs, grip as solid and voice as calm as he can make it. “I want you. All of you, preferably, but any part I can get. If you're only comfortable with kissing and maybe getting off once in a while, that's all right. If you want a relationship, we can discuss that. But I can't keep guessing what you do and don't want. So starting now, you don't get anything you don't ask for.”

Kevin's breath speeds up, his eyes widening. Stares at Sami like he's never looked at him before, like he's never seen anything like him. 

“Kiss me,” Kevin blurts out. 

“I know you know how to ask nicely.”

“Please? I really wish you’d shut up and kiss me-” 

Sami grins, leans up to meet Kevin's mouth. Today, it's slow, lingering. Kevin's hands brushing against Sami's hair before he remembers he hasn't asked permission. Breaking off from the kiss with a moan.

“I need you to tell me what ‘all’ means,” Kevin finally says. Licks his lips, pretends he's not leaning into Sami’s grip. “Please.” 

Sami smiles, lets Kevin see his eyes traveling over Kevin's body. His lower lip, which he goes crazy for being bitten on. The hollow of his throat, pulse fluttering. Curve of his shoulders and biceps, the strength Sami knows is there. His chest, rising and falling, Sami smiling at the memories of them having to sleep in the backseat of Kevin's old Dodge when they were too poor to afford a hotel. How he would listen to Kevin's heartbeat half the night instead of sleeping. Lets the saliva fill his mouth as he stares at the bulge in Kevin's jeans, raises his eyes to see how Kevin's flushed pink for it. Curls his fingers into the muscle of Kevin's thighs and finally shivers, thinking of everything he wants. 

“All. You, _entièrement_ , _entier_ , I - I can't find the words, because it's everything. I want to touch you and taste you and push you - oh my god, I want to drive you insane for things you've never even considered.”

“I want you to talk,” Kevin says, hands shaking where he's balled them into fists at his sides. “I- can I please touch you? While you talk? You can do anything you want.”

“Fuck,” Sami breathes, spreads his arms and Kevin immediately goes for his shirt, getting it over Sami’s head. Kevin grabs hold of Sami’s hair, mouth pressing anxious little kisses to Sami’s neck. “Okay. If I'm doing this, you have to talk too, your voice right now, fuck. You need to tell me- *oh*”, for Kevin's hands stroking down his chest, one hand working his left nipple. “You need to tell me what you want. Cause I can't decide, Kev, it's too much, oh shit-"

Kevin’s pulled him up to his feet, hand going to Sami’s dick, and his perfect mouth at Sami’s ear. “I want you to fuck me,” he says, all in one breath. Sami can't think while Kevin’s rubbing him through his pants, and he groans, shudders for Kevin’s hand and voice. “I'm gonna chicken out unless you hold me down. You have to, Sami, I… I've never been… _merde_ , of course you told me to talk. Hilarious.”

“Not the word I'd choose right now,” Sami says, and closes his hands around Kevin's wrists. Takes a breath, noses at Kevin's ear, placing kisses at the rim of his ear and his temple. “Amazing might be one. Gorgeous is another. Fucking hot, if I get two. I knew it, I knew you’d drive me crazy and be so perfect. I - god, we’re gonna be so good together. We are, we are already.”

“You're amazing. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.” Kevin’s voice is soft and shattering, and Sami strokes down his back.

“You're doing so good, Kev. Come to bed, okay? If I'm going to fuck you, I want to do it right.”

Kevin lets himself be led into Sami’s bedroom, lets Sami pull off his shirt and jeans and shoes, be spread pliant across the sheets. Sami allows himself enough time to get his sweatpants off and grab a couple condoms before lying down next to Kevin. Kevin’s eyes go wide, taking in Sami’s nudity and the packets he stashes on the bedside table.

“Oh my god, you’re going to-” Kevin starts, and Sami gets his hands back around Kevin's wrists. “Okay. That’s - that’s really fucking…” He loses his words in a cry, and Sami presses his fingers down harder.

“Is this what you need?” Sami asks, and Kevin groans out an affirmative. “Good. That’s good. I'm going to ask you some questions, and I need you not to lie. First one - have you ever been fucked before?”

“Yes.” 

“By who and with what?”

“You already know, we got stuck in the airport in Milwaukee that time and you read my texts because you're a nosy little punk. You know who and how.”

Sami shakes his head. “I want to hear you say it. Remember, you don't get anything you don't ask for.”

“My wife has a strap-on, okay? It looks like a Smurf penis, but it's awesome. Are you going to fuck me?”

He's not going to let himself be baited into giggling, and he just calmly keeps his hands on Kevin's wrists. “Can you come for it?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Tell me how you like to be fucked.”

“The normal way…” Kevin says weakly.

“What’s normal?”

He shakes his head, ducks to kiss at Sami’s cheek, rub his nose along the edge of Sami’s beard. “I - I don’t - don’t make me choose. Just tell me, put me where you want me.”

“All ways,” Sami whispers, kissing Kevin's mouth. Puts everything he has into it, wants Kevin hungry and sweet the way he'd been all week. “I think about fucking you every time we're in the ring. Get your shorts down, get you on your hands and knees, give everyone a real show. And I think about it when I'm watching you write promo, because you suck on the end of your pen and I’ve been dreaming about you blowing me for fifteen years. I think about it when you sit in my car and let me touch your thigh and shift in your seat because you're already hard. And hearing you tell me that you don't like choosing… ah, fuck, I think you know how crazy that drives me.”

“Yeah?” Kevin murmurs, dazed and tugging at Sami’s grip in a slow, arching motion. 

“Yeah. And we're gonna start like this-” Sami presses Kevin's hands to the pillow. “Keep your hands here until I tell you, unless you need to tap out. If you tap, I stop.”

***

Sami has never been so thankful for his bedroom layout, because it means he can reach the lube in his bedside table without moving. Moving would involve not touching Kevin, stopping his exploration of Kevin's body. He knows every scar that Kevin has, was there or gave it to Kevin himself, but there's so much that Sami doesn't know and is getting to discover. 

Kevin is ticklish on the right side of his upper ribs, giggles and squirms when he's touched. His toes curl and his hips shift when Sami sucks on his lip, his tongue. There's a fresh rope burn on his back that Sami has to carefully press, because he’s known for years how crazy Kevin goes for slow, deliberate pain. It's even more spectacular now, Kevin’s breath punching out in a low cry. He whimpers when Sami gets his boxers off and bites Sami’s shoulder for the first stroke that Sami gives his dick, makes Sami groan through his teeth for the sharp, sudden pain.

His eyes also get huge when Sami talks, and it’s a good look on him. 

“You're doing so well. I love how you look for me right now. I want you to feel amazing, get you so relaxed, okay?” Kevin nods, his dick jerking a little in Sami’s palm. “Tell me if I'm wrong, but I think you go fucking insane for going slow. Me, I like being fucked through the mattress, turning everything off except my body and believe me, that's got its draw, but I want you to just feel, can you do that for me?”

Biting his lip and thrusting into Sami’s hand, Kevin gasps. “Yes,” he says, and Sami gives him a slow rub of his thumb to the tip of Kevin’s dick. He cries out for it, quiet even now, even when he has no one to keep quiet for, and that’s Sami’s next challenge.

“Good,” Sami breathes, and Kevin shudders hard. He’s hard enough, wet enough, that Sami could probably make him come quite soon, but Sami wants to draw it out. Maybe suck Kevin off a little, see if he can match that night in the shitty Brighton Beach AirBnB they’d rented. “You’re so fucking good for me, Kev. I’ve been thinking about how you’ve never been fucked by another man. How I’m going to be your first. I fucking love that, I don’t want anyone to have had you besides me.”

Kevin’s cry is gorgeous, hands balling into fists in the pillowcase, fluid beading at the tip of his dick. Sami leans down to lick it up, Kevin’s hips jerking, and runs his tongue over his lips to savor Kevin’s taste. “Have you even experimented, Kevin?” he asks, nosing at Kevin’s belly, biting softly at the skin just above his hip. “Let one of the boys get on his knees for the champ?”

“Fuck no,” Kevin growls, restless, shaking his head. “They weren’t you, so why would I?”

“You fucking waited for me? Jesus, you’re unreal. I'm sorry, you know. We should've done this a long time ago.”

Sami licks at Kevin again, letting his tongue drag over more of Kevin’s dick. Closes his mouth and pulls off slow, watches Kevin writhe and curse and pant. 

“You’re sensitive as hell and I’m gonna be the only one to know it, yeah?”

Kevin nods, hips arching, body begging the way he won't let his mouth do yet. Sami slides his mouth down Kevin’s thigh, tastes sweat and detergent, tests Kevin's reaction to a harder bite. It's a sharp cry, his entire body jerking, and Sami strokes at Kevin's chest to soothe him. 

“Easy, Kev, I've got you.” He lowers his mouth again, sucks Kevin's dick back into his mouth and savors how fucking sweet Kevin moans for it. How he shivers for the smallest things. Kevin bites his lip, groaning, and Sami pulls back to lick at the head. “Here’s another thing you need to know - I don’t want you quiet. Let me hear you, I love hearing you.”

“Motherfucking shit, I’ll _try_ , okay? I’ll try. Please, please - I want it, please.” 

Kevin’s voice is soft and shivering, and he loses his words in a moan. It’s nice and clear, though, so Sami decides he deserves more. He rewards Kevin by sucking him down again, sealing his mouth and encouraging Kevin to fuck his mouth at his own pace. Kevin swears and growls, his thighs trembling, and Sami bobs his head, relaxes his throat as much as possible. Swallows around bitter-salt-musk, his pace quickening along with Kevin’s thrusts. 

“You- oh, fuck, you’re good. You’re so good. More, please, oh, *oh*. You look fucking beautiful like this Sami.”

Sami hums in pleasure, wants Kevin’s hands in his hair - pulling and holding and stroking - but wants Kevin being obedient more. He hasn’t moved his hands, and Sami’s delighted by it. By having his bullishly stubborn, vicious, mouthy Kevin reduced to a mass of need and lust. He’s going to sound even more perfect when Sami’s fucking him. 

The taste of Kevin on his tongue is changing, telltale, and Sami doesn't let Kevin shove him away when he comes. Swallows what he can; there's a stream of it dripping down his mouth, and Sami sprawls possessively atop Kevin's legs. Uses some of the sheet to wipe his mouth, then noses and mouths at Kevin’s trembling skin. _Soft_ , Sami loves that softness of Kevin’s thighs and belly, the secret spots like under his ear and at the base of his neck that make him sob if you touch just the right way. He’s going to spend hours touching Kevin now, just try and stop him.

“Mine,” Sami says, kissing the bite mark he’d left on Kevin’s inner thigh. “You’re mine, right? I mean, aside from your wife, you’re mine, and I can bite you hard enough to leave marks, right? Sorry, I should’ve-”

“Yours yours _yours_ fucking always,” Kevin slurs, a hand in Sami’s hair and tugging upward. Kevin licks at the come on Sami's mouth - his own come, fucking gorgeous - and Sami can feel how he's still shaking. Long, trembling runs of it, which Sami doesn't think is usual for him.

He pulls Kevin onto his side, slides up and gets his arms around Kevin in what's fairly close to a sleeper hold, one hand across Kevin's forehead and the other across his collarbone. It's just instinctive, knowing Kevin needs to be held like this and Sami instinctively needing to do it. He tucks his chin to Kevin's shoulder, kisses at the curve of his neck.

“I've got you,” Sami says, and Kevin makes a shivering sort of cry.

“You- you don't- it's stupid…”

“What, this? It's not. Remember that locker room in Calgary? The first time I bladed? I freaked out worse than this and you held me down for over an hour.”

“That was different. I've had blowjobs before and I don't - why can't I stop shaking?”

Sami’s absolute shit at poker, but he’d bet a lot of money this is not only the first time Kevin’s done anything with another man, it’s also the first time he’s done anything explicitly kinky, and while his brain might not know how much he likes submission, his body does. Sami would bet that Kevin wouldn’t even question it after other types of sex, but in this situation, Kevin can’t rationalize or suppress it.

“It doesn't matter. I’ve got you. Is it better if I cover your eyes?”

The sob Kevin makes is really comprehensively lovely, a little high and a lot lost. Sami takes it as a yes, moves the hand on Kevin's forehead over his eyes, and Kevin's breathing almost immediately gets smoother. His limbs are heavier against Sami, though he's still trembling.

“Better?” Kevin nods, and Sami tucks his knees up, body-scissors Kevin. Loves being able to touch this much of Kevin without pain or stress. “Good. I can't get over how hot that was. I'm gonna do that more, make you fight to keep your hands where I put them. No, _chéri_ , relax. I want you relaxed. Hell, you could fall asleep if you want, we're not going anywhere.”

Kevin’s forehead tenses like he wants to argue, but he just sighs. “I’m not fucking well falling asleep,” he says, a little more of the usual sarcasm creeping in.

Sami’s not precisely surprised that Kevin really *does* fall asleep. He’d been so keyed-up, on-edge, and Sami’s glad that he was able to take care of that for Kevin. Besides, he’s shared enough hotel rooms with Kevin to know he tends to crash after coming.

Sami eases Kevin onto his back and curls against his side. Yeah, he’d like to be fucking Kevin right now, but he’s not moving. This lets him plan more - he hadn’t exactly expected Kevin to show up today, and while he could have rolled with continuing things immediately after sucking Kevin off, it’s calming to have this time to run through possibilities.

There are a lot of possibilities. Getting Kevin on hands and knees is a classic for a reason; it’s deliciously familiar from the business, it lets him hold Kevin against him, lets him bite Kevin’s neck or maybe finish all over Kevin’s back. Even more gorgeous would be face-to-face, using his strength to keep Kevin’s knees up and his body bent in half, kissing him like breathing. Sami knows if he wanted to be cruel, he could order Kevin to ride him - cruel because Kevin likes contact, cruel because Kevin hates being seen when he’s vulnerable, there’d be nowhere to hide and that’s what Sami loves. He’s also strongly considering bending Kevin over a weight bench sometime, they've both had the locker-room fantasy.

He wants so much, but above all, he wants it to be perfect for Kevin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Entièrement - entirely  
> Entier - entire  
> Merde - shit  
> chéri - darling


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of the line, gang. Much love for taking the ride, and for sharing in the feels.

Sami wakes up to a mouth on his chest and a slow, tentative hand around his dick, and he almost chokes when he opens his eyes.

“Kev?” he asks, voice thick in his throat. He must have slept longer than he’d expected, the television in the other room is on a different hockey game and the afternoon sun has set. His bedroom is shadowy and silent, and Kevin is lying half across his legs.

Kevin flicks his gaze up to Sami, eyes blown beautifully dark. “Hi. I just wanted to touch you. Can I?”

“God, yeah, of course. You - you remembered to ask.”

Kevin’s mouth quirks into a small smile, which he then hides against Sami’s skin, pressing his mouth just below Sami’s left nipple. “Might not have, if you kept sounding like you did before you woke up. You moan pretty.”

“Thanks... oh, *ohhh*.”

Sami doesn’t really get a chance to argue with Kevin’s assessment, since Kevin’s thumb slides around the head of Sami’s dick. It’s a little dry, but Sami arches into it anyway; Kevin’s curious and lazy and touching him, and that’s better than almost anything. It’d be better if he had - oh hey, that’s where he put the lube. He reaches for the bedside table and gets the bottle, his free hand stroking at Kevin’s hair, the scruff of his beard. Huh - Kevin showered, his hair’s still kind of wet. 

Sami doesn’t remark on it, but it’s pretty indicative of Kevin wanting something they’d discussed earlier.

“You just want to touch me?” Kevin ducks his head, but Sami keeps his grip, gentle but firm. “It’s all right if you do. You just have to tell me - I don’t mind, I love your hands. Mmmm, yeah, you can bite a little. Not too hard, some of us are going to be barechested on national television in a couple days.”

“You’ll look amazing,” Kevin says, mouth brushing the upper edge of Sami’s stomach, nips at the ridge of his abs. “God, you look so fucking good, Sami. Is the 15 pounds of muscle part of the contract? Cause it wasn’t in mine-”

“Couple more weeks of Scott’s tire-pulls, you’ll- *ah* - you'll be fine. Give me your hand, okay?”

“Hmm-?”

“Kev, if you’re gonna jerk me off, I want lube. Give me your hand.”

Kevin turns his palm up, slightly chagrined, and Sami pours out some of the lube. He hisses as Kevin wraps his hand around him, cold wet lube and the heat of Kevin’s palm, the ink of his tattoos shifting. Sami lets his fingers play over the varying red and black lines, guides Kevin into a tighter grip, a harder stroke. Kevin takes Sami’s cues just like he’s working a match, responding to the shift of Sami’s hips and the pitch of his voice. Sami bites back a moan, has to do it again when Kevin twists his hand on an upstroke and leans down to mouth at his chest.

“Wish I could get you off like this,” Kevin murmurs, scraping his teeth a little against the jut of Sami’s collarbone. “Watch you come all over my hand, but you can’t, Sami. You can’t come because you promised you’d fuck me. Unless you don’t want-”

Sami has to grab Kevin’s wrist, stop him from moving his hand any further, because he *will* come all over Kevin’s hand if he doesn’t stop. Fights for breath, and Kevin looks so gorgeously startled, flushed across his cheeks.

“Your mouth is a fucking problem,” Sami growls, pulling Kevin up to kiss that mouth. Bite at Kevin’s lip to hear him groan. “I said I’d fuck you, and I’m going to. Lie back and open up for me.”

Kevin freezes, breath coming shallow and his hands starting to shake against Sami’s hips. “It’s - I want it. I do. But I don’t want you to _see_ -”

God, the look on Kevin’s face - scared and young and sweet, and part of Sami really, really enjoys that look. It’s going to be something to explore later, but now he has to reassure Kevin, rest his hand over Kevin’s heart. Solid, unmoving, and he strokes his thumb over Kevin’s skin, meets his gaze.

“Kevin. Lie back. I’ve got you.” 

Sami keeps his left hand on Kevin’s wrist, pushes gently at Kevin’s chest with his right. Gets Kevin on his back, shivering and wide-eyed, more than enough freedom to fight Sami if he didn’t want to be moved. He nearly looks innocent, as ridiculous as the thought is. Like he’s never done anything like this before, and Sami probably shouldn’t enjoy that idea as much as he does.

“Put your hands above your head.” Kevin does it, and Sami closes his left hand around Kevin’s, presses down enough to hear Kevin’s pleased little sigh. “You told me I’d have to hold you down. I can do that, but I need to prep you first. I need you to keep your hands up there and I need you to talk to me. Tell me if anything hurts.”

Kevin’s hands, as Sami spreads his legs, are shaking against the pillows, and he twists his head to the side. He’s breathing hard already, and Sami presses Kevin’s left thigh down against the bed further, kisses the soft skin just under his knee. Kevin’s breath leaves in a sharp little cry, and Sami smiles, pours lube over his fingers. He slides his index finger over Kevin’s hole, and Kevin’s shivering gets harder, his cry louder.

“Yeah, like that - oh fuck, you’re being so sweet for me, Kev. Letting me in easy.”

Sami can’t breathe, not for the way Kevin’s practically writhing. The sounds he’s making are going to be more than enough to get Sami off for the next month or so, and he feels so hot and tight around the two fingers Sami’s working into him. Kevin groans through his teeth, shivers and tentatively pushes back against Sami. There’s so many pale stretches of Kevin’s skin begging to be marked up, and all Sami wants to do is fuck into Kevin hard and rough, grab at that skin and hold Kevin down. 

He can’t stop talking, murmuring, “you’re so gorgeous, look at you, oh wow, I’m going to rim you next time. Or spank you, have you tried that yet? I just really like your ass. And your thighs - oh, fuck, breathe, you have to breathe and relax. I want to do so much with you, _mon petit ours, mon amour, laisse moi_ \- I’m sorry, my mouth is sort of getting away from me-”

“Sami, fuck - oh motherfucking hell, don’t fucking chicken out on me.” Kevin takes a breath, pushes back against Sami’s fingers, and his entire body looks like it’s trembling. Sami leans up, mouths at Kevin’s neck, and Kevin practically jackknifes, so ridiculously sensitive. His voice comes out lower and raspier. ”I fucking love your mouth, I used to dream about you dirtytalking me like this. Oh fuck, your hands, more please, *please* more, I need more.”

Sami scissors his fingers slowly back and forth, stretching, and while Kevin is opening up for him, it’s not as easy as it was at first. He thinks Kevin prepped some in the shower, maybe only as much as he was comfortable with. Kevin’s making breathy little pain noises, and that’s not a surprise either. 

“You’ll get it. C’mon, need you to relax,” Sami murmurs, crooking his fingers and watching Kevin arch and bite his lip and whimper for the stretch. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

“M’not,” Kevin protests, and Sami leans up, kisses Kevin with as much hunger as he can - which is a lot, he hasn’t gotten off, he’s been steadily ignoring his dick ever since Kevin barged into his apartment, and then again when he woke up. 

“Kevin, you’re so fucking beautiful, and if I have to keep you here all weekend to prove it, that’s something I have no problem doing.” 

He shifts his wrist, getting a better angle, and Kevin nearly shrieks. Sami almost stops dead, but Kevin’s hands are scrabbling at the pillow and he’s gulping air, groaning “yes yes yes fuck right there, _there_ , please Sami please”. Kevin practically wails as Sami withdraws his fingers - more lube is everyone’s friend - but he goes back to those sweet, hungry little cries as soon as Sami fingers him open again, grazing his prostate.

Sami can feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears, the soles of his feet, his cock painfully hard against his belly, and yet he still can’t take his eyes off Kevin. Loves the way Kevin’s voice slides from a cry into a croon for a simple wrist motion, how his legs haven’t stopped shaking since Sami got him in bed. It’s so much to find out about Kevin, twists his belly with regret and bitterness that he hasn’t been able to know this until now, how they could have been doing this for years. He could have had Kevin spread out in his bed, looking this amazing, being this perfect, and he didn’t. 

He can’t wait any longer.

***

Lacing his hands with Kevin’s feels - perfect. Inevitable. It feels like they’ve been waiting their entire lives to do this, and Sami feels Kevin’s breath trembling against his mouth as he slides his dick against the cleft of Kevin’s ass, slowly working his way inside him. Kevin’s eyes look so incredibly lost, Sami can’t look away.

“Hey,” he whispers, shifting his hips slowly, letting Kevin get used to the feeling. “Hey, Kev, I’ve got you, breathe.”

Kevin keens softly, arching to let Sami’s cock catch on the rim of his ass. “Please, please I can’t - Sami I need it, you have to-”

Sami’s hands tighten on Kevin’s, resting more of his weight against Kevin, and pushes in slow and steady. Maybe it was better that they didn’t do this when they were young and stupid, he thinks, he was impatient and ignorant, he could never have given Kevin what he clearly needs. Couldn’t have gone this slow and deliberate, and - _oh_.

Kevin’s just falling apart. 

It’s beautiful and painful to see, but Sami wouldn’t give it up for the world. There are teartracks streaking across Kevin’s cheeks, and Sami knows - with the part of him that still wakes up to check for a mask and has _ole_ cheers ringing in his ears, deep in his blood - that if he asks Kevin if he’s all right, Kevin will freak out. Kevin will not be able to handle having sex for the first time and confronting those feelings, and Sami can only keep his fingers tightly laced with Kevin’s. Can only fuck him, breathless-gentle, stare into his dark, overwhelmed eyes, and kiss him. Feel the cries reverberate through Kevin’s body and buzz against his own mouth.

He swallows all of Kevin’s sounds, even though it hurts. He wants to hear Kevin sob and moan and scream, to roll around in the satisfaction that he’s the one affecting Kevin. But he keeps Kevin’s secrets safe, the way he’s let Kevin whimper his fears into his shoulder after bad matches, the way he’s been the shore on which Kevin rails and screams and breaks in every way but this one. 

It makes him feel good. It makes him feel _powerful_.

“Sami, please, please more…” Kevin breathes, breaking the kiss, crying out when Sami lets himself fuck Kevin harder and deeper. 

Kevin tries to speak again, gets most of it out in low, slurred French that basically amounts to never wanting Sami to stop, wanting to be fucked all the time, needing Sami and calling him his deepest love, and Sami hadn’t really thought anything could be better than being inside Kevin. Being inside Kevin while he’s losing his command of language and groaning the *filthiest* things ever? It’s better than just about anything except winning a championship.

Sami’s brain sort of shorts out, he can’t even remember what he does, but he knows he came harder than he has in years, and Kevin’s still sobbing and swearing underneath him. He licks at the sweat sheening Kevin’s neck and hairline, bites down at the salt-sweet skin just under his jaw, and Kevin shouts, comes a heartbeat later all over them both.

This is usually the moment he dreads, where he's boneless and sticky and sprawled across someone else. What do you say at a moment like this? What do you do? You’re supposed to be relaxed and calm, but he’s always on edge. Mostly he wants to be clean and feel less like he's going to float out of his own body, but Kevin's lying under him, clinging tight. 

He doesn't mind if it's Kevin, he's figuring out. More than doesn't mind, kind of loves the way Kevin's mouth is kissing absently at his neck, Kevin's hands still held in his. He’s softening as he’s still inside Kevin, and Jesus, he can’t handle the sound Kevin makes for it. Pulling out, untangling his hands from Kevin’s, handling condom cleanup - it all fucking *aches*. His voice scrapes out in a too-high whimper as he kneels back on the bed, watching how Kevin lowers his legs and winces.

“Stay?” Sami asks, his voice hushed. “Please? I don't know if you usually do that, but I really want you to-”

Kevin bursts into quietly startled laughter, motions to where his belly and Sami’s are still streaked with come. “Sure as hell not gonna walk around like this, _mon chouchou_.”

“Jerk,” he says, startled by the switch to their old pet name. “Why'd I think you'd be less of a jerk?” Sami grabs a handful of wipes from the box on the table, starts cleaning up, and Kevin takes them out of his hands. “Hey, I kinda don't want dried-"

Kevin shoves him back onto his ass with an “oof" and bats Sami’s hands away, cleaning up the streaks of fluid on his thighs and belly. “Look, I'm trying to say thank you here.”

“You don't-" he starts, but Kevin finally looks him in the eye. His expression is soft and a little embarrassed.

“Yes, I do. That was… amazing. And terrifying, but mostly amazing, and it was because of you. I - I didn't think it'd ever be that good, and I was so, so stupid. I should have known it'd be good between us. I should have known it would be you.”

Sami lies staring up at Kevin, and he wants to tell him everything: how he almost called Kevin a hundred different times his first day at the PC. How fucking terrified he was, surrounded by the best wrestlers in the world and the biggest company in the world. How every time anyone mentioned a story from the indy days, his brain was on a constant loop of _Kevin, miss Kevin, need Kevin, where’s Kevin?_

How much he loves Kevin.

And Kevin’s just walking around his bedroom naked, nervously cleaning up the condom wrapper and the damp sheet and swiping his boxers off the floor to throw back on. 

“Come back here,” Sami says, sort of begging and not caring how it sounds. Kevin looks over at him, startled, and he holds out his hand. “ _'ant qalbi ya habia_ , I want to kiss you more.”

Kevin licks his lips, clutching his shirt for a few moments. Drops it to the floor and cocks his head. “ _Qalb_ is heart.”

“Oh, so you did learn some Arabic,” Sami teases.

“Tell me the rest.”

“Get back in bed and I will,” Sami says. Kevin smiles shyly, and after a moment, shoves his boxers back down. Curls himself back around Sami, and finally, this is what Sami has wanted for years. He kisses Kevin, lets his hands run over Kevin’s shoulders and arms the way he couldn’t when they were fucking. Tries not to let his voice shake too much as he says, “I said you were my heart and love. You know that, right?”

“ _Je n’ai jamais cessé de t’aimer_ ,” Kevin says, eyes beautifully dark and soft. One hand settles in Sami’s hair, the other in the hollow of Sami’s lower back. “Not ever.”

_Rien sans toi_ , Sami’s heart beats, but Kevin’s kissing him again, and he doesn’t have the breath to say it. Doesn’t need to, because Kevin knows, he’d said it in front of the entire world.

_Nothing without you._

This is their chance to write their own story anew once again, and maybe this time, they’ll get it right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mon petit ours, mon amour, laisse moi = little bear, my love, let me  
> Mon chouchou - term of affection for a boyfriend, can be "cabbage" or "creampuff" or "favorite", depending on who you ask  
> Je n’ai jamais cessé de t’aimer = I have never stopped loving you

**Author's Note:**

> Ca va? - How are you?  
> Bien, mon ami = good, my friend


End file.
